The Penny Drops
by emmaouttathebox
Summary: (Set early/mid-season 9) Dean, alone on a hunt, receives two frantic phone calls from the bunker, one from Sam, the other from Kevin. Neither know what happened, but something is going horribly wrong. Note: As of episode 9 this is now an AU. #KevinLives
1. Chapter 1

** Dean: Laramie Wyoming **

Dean woke up on the motel bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. It had been a long hunt. It had taken him several days to eradicate the nest of vamps preying on an old folks home. Dean felt a little guilty for leaving Sam at the bunker again, but he had needed a break. The strain of keeping Zeke's secret sometimes felt like it was eating Dean alive. Besides, Wyoming was only a couple of hours away from Idaho...

Yawning, he stretched out his hand to grab his phone from off the nearby bedside table. Dean turned it on as he rolled out of bed, wandering over to the end of the room and grabbing himself a slice of leftover pizza. Breakfast procured, Dean flipped through the phone. Two new voicemails. The first was from Sam, Dean pressed play.

_Dean. Something's wrong. I woke up on the floor of the study and everything's trashed. I think there was a fight. Crowley's missing and the last thing I remember before I blacked out was Kevin. I dunno what happened, but I think Kevin might be possessed. You've got to come back here. I'll try and track them down in the meantime._

The fear in Sam's voice was unmistakeable, Dean's heart pounded wildly as he leapt into action, hastily stuffing his meager luggage into a bag and running to the Impala. It wasn't until he was on the road (and going 25 over the speed limit) that Dean remembered the second voicemail. Maybe Sam had just gotten really drunk. Maybe it was nothing. Dean pulled the phone out and glanced down at the caller ID. Kevin? He jabbed play. Kevin's voice rang through, a panicked whisper.

_Something's wrong with Sam. I don't know what, but [long pause]...good, he's gone.] Dean, he attacked me. Or, whatever's in Sam's body attacked me. He wasn't acting like himself. Anyway, whatever's possessing Sam is strong and powerful and I'm not sure what to do. He wants the tablet. I've got it right now, but he's got the exits blocked off and I don't know how to fight him. Dean, you gotta...crap, he's coming back._

There was a click as Kevin disconnected the phone. If Dean was scared before, he was downright terrified now. It was possible Kevin was possessed by Crowley...but if Crowley had managed possession, Dean figured he'd be much less subtle about it. No, this was the handiwork of Zeke. And for the first time, Dean had no clue how to go about fighting an angel. He settled on driving faster.


	2. Chapter 2

** Kevin: 3 hours earlier **

Kevin was up late, working to decode the still untranslatable tablet. Dean had been gone for a day or two, Sam was out on a late night grocery run and Crowley was still secured in the dungeon. Mumbling curses, Kevin tried in vain to rub the incoming sleep from his eyes, but it was no use. He'd been at the tablet for hours and his head was swimming with obscure symbols. Kevin set down his pen and reached for the nearby coffee pot. Empty. As he turned to get up, Kevin jumped. Sam was standing in the doorway, drawn up to full height. Kevin hadn't even heard him come in.

"You scared me!" Kevin said, reaching down to pick up his mug, "You got more coffee, right?"

When he looked up again, Sam was standing at the desk. "Give me the work you've done on the tablet."

Kevin's brow crinkled. "It's gibberish right now. Besides, I'm the only one who can translate-"

Sam cut him off. "Give me the tablet, prophet." His voice was harsh.

Kevin felt uneasy. Something was not right with the situation. With his other hand, he reached for the tablet, fingers wrapping protectively instead around the stone, as well as the notes he had taken. "Look, Sam, you're probably just tired. We'll get back to research in the morning," Kevin remarked, trying to keep his voice light.

"Give. me. the. tablet." Sam asserted, slamming a fist into the table with such force that it cracked. "It would be unwise for you to refuse."

"Why?" Kevin countered slowly, "I'm the prophet, not you."

"If you will not give me the tablet willingly, I will have to retrieve it by force," Sam said cooly. He extended his arm, cold eyes resting upon Kevin as he clenched his hand into a fist. Nothing happened. They made eye contact, confused. "I do not understand..." Sam muttered.

Neither did Kevin, frankly, but he seized his chance for escape. Throwing the mug as hard as he could at Sam, Kevin streaked off in the opposite direction, tablet gripped in his hands. He heard a yell of rage from the study, but didn't look back. Where to go to be safe...where to go to be safe...

He made it to the dungeon without thinking, the heavily warded door slammed shut behind him. What the men of letters hadn't warded against, the Winchesters had. Whatever had Sam, hopefully, couldn't get in. Kevin slumped against the wall, clutching the notes and tablet to his heaving chest.

"You come to have a sleepover?" drawled a husky voice in the darkness. Crowley. Kevin's biggest enemy and, right now, his only ally.


	3. Chapter 3

** Sam: Present **

He woke in the hallway, dazed and confused. How did he get here? Sam probed his head, searching for some sort of injury, but everything was in perfect condition. The last thing Sam remembered was walking into the study to tell Kevin he'd gotten more coffee...bolting upright, Sam ran back to the study. It was empty, floor littered with papers, ceramic shards and-blood? There was a sick twist in Sam's stomach, he didn't want to know whose it was. The table, which had been made from thick oak, was laced with deep cracks that spawned from the center. Whatever Sam was dealing with had superhuman strength. Kevin was nowhere in sight.

Sam jogged the hallways, calling Kevin's name. He couldn't help but notice the extended signs of fighting: shattered glass, broken shelves and, strange, scorch marks on the walls. What worried Sam most, however, were the fragments of arrows outside the dungeon. Kevin had used his crossbow, it seemed, but it didn't look like it had made a difference. The doors to the dungeon hung open. The desk, overturned, was blackened with ash and Crowley was nowhere to be seen. A few syringes littered the floor, empty. How could he have escaped? Unless...Crowley had help.

He could have used the blood to alert his followers. Sam hadn't been home for a while and he knew how Kevin could be around Crowley. Kevin could have gone down to try and pressure Crowley into translating the tablet and gotten goaded by Crowley to go outside. From there, it wouldn't have been too hard to mount a sneak attack, subduing Kevin, maybe even possessing him. It would explain the amount of mass, superhuman destruction around, and why he blacked out after running into Kevin.

Of course, Sam knew the theory was flimsy at best. Imagining Kevin was possessed was better than imagining him tortured...or even dead. And even if the sneak attack _was_ demons, they could be anywhere by now. He went to check the door, but the exits were sealed off. The bunker had sensed an attack too little too late, apparently. Were Crowley and Kevin still inside? Sam's hand went to his pocket, ready to call Dean, but the phone was missing. What on earth had happened?


	4. Chapter 4

** Kevin: 2.5 hours earlier **

If he'd had a choice, Crowley would have been the last person on Earth that Kevin would run to for help. If he'd been thinking clearly, Kevin wouldn't have gone into the dungeon at all, but tried to leave the bunker completely. Of course, when Kevin really thought about it, that probably wouldn't have been a good idea either. He had no idea whether or not the thing possessing Sam had backup. Besides, where would he go? Dean was halfway across the country, as was Castiel, and Garth had been off the radar for a while.

"You come to keep me company? That warms my heart...if I had one," Crowley smirked.

"Shut up," Kevin snapped, flipping on one of the lights before heading across the room. He tucked the tablet into one of the far bookshelves. Making sure he'd made a note of where it was hidden, Kevin walked back to the center, facing Crowley. He placed the paper with the vague translation on Crowley's desk. "Translate."

"And why on earth would I do that?" Crowley asked, kicking his feet leisurely up onto the table, "You've offered nothing in return."

"How about your life?"

Crowley chuckled. "You really going to try that one? You've got nothing to back up your words. Besides, I don't think Squirrel and Moose would be too pleased. Speaking of which, where is Moose, anyway?"

Kevin's eyes darted to the door. It would hold, right? "None of your business, Crowley." he barked, slamming the paper onto Crowley's desk, "Just translate if you know what's good for you."

"Something's really got you rattled, eh?" Crowley commented dryly, drumming his fingertips on the desk without touching the paper, "S'no good keeping it all bottled up like that."

Kevin ignored him. He kept glancing at the door wondering how long it would hold. Wondering whether or not the thing that had Sam could break through it, or whether it could access Sam's memories and use a key. Of course, if it was a demon that had Sam, Kevin was in a heap of trouble for locking himself in a room with Crowley. A demon would either be working for Abaddon or Crowley, and either way Kevin would be screwed.

As Kevin wondered, he paced the room, finding a small stash of weapons tucked into a dusty corner. He settled on a crossbow: deadly enough to cause problems, but hopefully not as likely to kill Sam as a gun would. Of course, Kevin's aim was questionable enough that a gun might not injure Sam anyway.

There was a bang on the door.

"Oi! Who is it this time?" Crowley called.

Another bang, this time louder.

"Is this what's got you all scared?" Crowley asked, though Kevin was still partially concealed behind a row of shelves. He didn't answer. The banging continued, growing louder and louder until it stopped suddenly. "Who's there?" Crowley said.

Suddenly there was a faint high pitched whine, like static, coupled with light shining through the cracks between the door.

"You pissed off another angel?" Crowley asked. The breath caught in Kevin's throat. Angel? But...how could an angel have Sam?

"Uh, Kev," Crowley's voice was getting worried, "I think I'll take you up on the offer now. I translate, you get me out of here and maybe we'll both make it out of this alive."

The ringing was getting getting louder. There wasn't much time. Gritting his teeth and cursing, Kevin stepped out from between the bookshelves. "How do you suggest we escape?"

Crowley nodded his head towards a pack of syringes on one of the nearby bookshelves, "Those first."


	5. Chapter 5

** Dean: North Platte, Nebraska **

The first thing Dean did was try to call Sam. Twice. Then Kevin. Then Sam again. With every increasing missed call, Dean's worry grew. There was a familiar ache in his chest as he wished, not for the first time, he could call Bobby. Bobby would know how to sort it all out. He'd be gruff, yes, but if anyone could cobble together a solution for an impossible problem, it was him.

Dean settled with calling Garth, but like Kevin and Sam there was no response. He bit back a groan, clenching his right hand on the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. The passing scenery blurred beside him as Dean's thoughts raced faster than his car. What to do? What had already happened? Were they still alive? Guilt rushed through Dean like a water from a dam, spilling into every facet of his being. There was still someone he could call, but could Dean really pull him out of the life he'd built?

It was the thought of Sam again, bloodied, broken and begging for death, that broke Dean from his reverie. He had no choice. Fingers rubbing against the worn phone keys, he dialed the number called only a few times, though he'd contemplated calling so often that the number was memorized. Shaking, he pressed the phone to his ear. It rang once, twice, three times and-

"Hello, Dean."

Dean's throat was dry, "Hey, Cas." He paused, thoughts all clamoring to reach the surface. So many things he wanted to say, but no good place to start. "I need your help."


	6. Chapter 6

** Kevin: Present **

If someone had told Kevin he'd be running for his life, trapped in the bunker, he would have assumed they meant he'd be running from Crowley. Or Abaddon. But, Sam? Not only Sam, but Sam possessed by an angel. It was unbelievable. "You think angels have figured out a way to possess people without consent?" he whispered, not for the first time, to Crowley.

Crowley responded with a rustle of papers as he meticulously translated the tablet. While they had learned many interesting things, Kevin still hadn't found anything that would be of such interest to an angel. He knew that letting Crowley learn the secrets of the angel tablet was a very bad idea, but currently the situation demanded it. If Crowley wanted to live, Kevin had to as well. Their current set-up was cramped at best. They had locked themselves into a coat closet. Kevin was working to translate the tablet to cuneiform while Crowley translated the cuneiform into English.

They ran, holed up somewhere and then ran again before Sam found them. It had been going on all night and Kevin was both terrified and exhausted. The worst was hearing Sam, wandering the hallways, sounding just as scared and confused as Kevin.

The first time it happened, Kevin had actually gone out to help, believing that Sam had managed to beat the angel inside him. He'd stepped into the hallway, warily pointing the crossbow (the only weapon he had at the moment) at Sam.

"Sam, is that you?" Kevin asked quietly.

"Kevin," Sam started, his voice full of worry, "What-" He stopped, his eyes glowing for a moment as he straightened to full height. When he looked back at Kevin, his eyes were cold. "No more games, prophet. I want the tablet." Sam was gone, again. Kevin stood in shock for a few moments. "Who am I talking to?" he asked. The angel did not respond. "Fine, this is the most you're getting from me." With that, he fired a shot from the crossbow, managing to graze Sam's shoulder before he turned and ran. He'd been running ever since.

Unfortunately, the running was starting to take its toll. Kevin was starting to keep a list of things they needed to get on their coming runs. Food. Water. His phone, which lay abandoned on the study table.

"You know," Crowley said, breaking the reverie, "You could just work up a sigil and send that winged pillock back to kingdom come."

Kevin had considered that solution, but had decided against it. First, he wasn't sure who the angel was, or how powerful it could be, and he didn't feel right sending it out to terrorize the rest of the world. That thing could get Cas. It could get Dean. Second, Kevin wasn't actually sure what happened to the angels ever since Heaven became locked down. He didn't want to risk Sam's life in the process. "Sam's my friend," Kevin replied simply. Crowley shrugged. They continued in silence for a few minutes until Kevin's watch beeped; time to run again.


	7. Chapter 7

** Castiel: Redford, Idaho **

There had been a brief moment of hesitation, Castiel looking at the familiar number with disbelief before answering. He turned the phone on, but decided to resume his wipe down of the bathroom sinks. It was Dean on the other end, and he needed help. Cas felt a pang of disappointment blossom in his chest. There had been a small part of him hoping it would be an apology. That Dean regretted sending him away and wanted him back at the bunker. Instead it was about a hunt.

Cas sighed. "What is the problem?" he asked, keeping his tone apathetic. He continued to wipe down the bathroom, moving to the counter tops. Dean was not getting any concern from him.

"I messed up, man." Dean's voice was gravelly and tainted with pain, "I think Sammy's in danger. Kevin, too. I don't know how to save them on my own."

Cas didn't know of a time Dean had messed up that badly on a hunt. His mind leapt to terrible conclusions: Sam and Kevin trapped in a pit, starving and injured as a creature moved in for the kill. The thing was, what good did Dean think he would be? "Dean, my grace is gone. I doubt I would be much help."

There was a pause on the other end. Cas could hear the whirring of the heater, the air rushing outside a window. Dean was in the Impala. "What do you know about the angel Ezekiel?" Dean asked, finally breaking their silence.

Cas set down the rag he was using to scrub. He walked out of the bathroom and muttered something about taking a lunch break to his supervisor before tucking outside the building. "I knew him. He was the leader of another garrison, a very successful garrison, and was well-known among the ranks. There were rumors he became promoted, becoming something close to arch-angel.'"

"So what happened to him?"

"I...I'm not sure. I wiped out so many angels in Heaven I lost track. And then, when I returned from Purgatory, they kept me brainwashed. I don't remember much of my time in Heaven outside of Naomi's office."

There was another pause, then a deep breath. "Ezekiel's got Sam."

Cas felt guilt rush through his veins. He slid against the brick wall of the building, lowering his head into his hands. "This is my fault, isn't it?" Cas croaked, "They're targeting you to get to me. Dean, I'm so-"

"It's my fault," Dean cut him off, "I let him possess Sam."

Cas inhaled sharply. This was much worse than anything he'd been imagining. "How long ago?" he asked, though Cas was dreading the answer.

"After the angels fell. I called you. I thought-" Dean choked, "I thought I'd be able to work it out. But I couldn't. And Sammy was dying. I couldn't just let..." he trailed off.

So that was it. Cas had wondered how Sam could make such a miraculous recovery. And now it was coming back to haunt them. Cas clenched the phone until his hand ached. He was supposed to be able to _fix_ this. Almost mechanically, Cas stood. He eyed the tiny parking lot, watching a young couple drive up in an older vehicle. They parked and entered the store. "I'm coming to help," Cas said.

"No, Cas. You stay there. I'm not putting anyone else in danger," Dean said, strained.

Cas smiled softly. Maybe, at one time, that would have worked. But not anymore. He was done hiding, done pretending life could go on as usual. If he was really to serve penance for all the things he'd done, he might as well start by trying to save Sam. "Dean, I'm coming." Walking towards the worn car, Cas made a silent apology to the couple in the gas station. "I just need you to tell me how to hot-wire a car."


	8. Chapter 8

**HEY GUYS. I'VE GOT FINALS COMING UP SOON, SO I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE IF UPDATES SLOW FOR A WEEK OR TWO.**

** Ezekiel: Present **

Ezekiel needed the prophet alive in order to find out what was on the tablet, but Kevin was not being cooperative. What was more, he was still weakened from his fall from Heaven, combined with the multiple resurrections performed on behalf of Dean, and Sam was struggling to regain control. It had been happening more and more. Though Sam was still unaware what was going on, it was only a matter of time before Sam could take over when Ezekiel was in control. And he couldn't have that.

For now, he'd keep playing this game of cat-and-mouse with Kevin. Even in his weakened state, Ezekiel was still far more powerful than the boy, he did not require sleep or nourishment to survive. Kevin did. It would only be a matter of time before Kevin slipped up badly. Of course, there was the problem of the demon, but it, too, had appeared weakened in their encounter. One tired human and a powerless demon did not warrant any concern on his part.

As for Sam, well, all it would take was a few well placed, incriminating memories. Combined with blank spaces of time, it wouldn't take long to drive Sam into insanity. Perhaps he'd push the blame on Kevin. Maybe Crowley. Regardless, soon that duo would have not one enemy, but two, as Sam, driven to breaking point, became violent. From there, all Ezekiel would have to do is appear and convince Kevin he could protect him from Sam, in return for the translation, of course.

Dean would have no idea any of it had occurred. Not until it was too late.


	9. Chapter 9

I'M BACK! FINALS ARE DONE AND, BETTER YET, I GOT ACCEPTED INTO MY SCHOOL'S FILM PROGRAM! HAPPY HOLIDAYS ALL!

** Crowley: 2 hours earlier **

Humanity _hurt_. It wasn't just the rough injection he was complaining about either. Something about pure human blood burned Crowley's insides like poison. Guilt wracked his being and he cried out instinctively. It had been a while since he'd felt emotion.

"Should I stop?" Kevin asked, glancing back to the door as the high pitched whining increased.

Crowley tried to step out of the circle, to no avail. "Do the rest of the injections," he said, gritting his teeth. The trap was etched into the floor. The only way other way to escape would likely cause his own demise. Kevin nodded and jabbed another needle into Crowley's arm.

The door banged open. Crowley's eyes widened. "Moose?" he gasped. It couldn't be. The Winchesters were stupid, sure, but stupid enough to give consent to an _angel_? The angel possessing Sam cocked his head, confused, likely, at the nickname, then extended his arm. Crowley knew what was coming next. "Kev, flip the table!" he roared. Kevin did so, just in time. There was another high pitched whine and a flash of light, but the blast was deflected by the table. "C'mon, boy, keep the injections coming."

"I've only got one left!" Kevin cried, fumbling with the last syringe as Sam started advancing.

"Oi! Angel! You that desperate to get a form that you decided to deal with the Winchesters? Cause let me tell you, all you're going to get is a pissed off older brother and his powerful angel sidekick," Crowley shouted, grunting in pain as Kevin injected the last of the blood.

"I do not think either will be a problem," Angel-Sam said thoughtfully.

Crowley, from behind the table, tried to put a furtive hand outside the circle. It worked. Cocking his head towards the bookshelves, he gave Kevin a look. As Kevin reached over to grip his work on the tablet, Crowley popped back up to address the angel.

"Now, I'm guessing all you need is the prophet, here. I was once an honest cross-roads demon, I know how to make a good deal. My life for the boy." Crowley, of course, was bluffing through his teeth, but he was no match for an angel, especially in his semi-human state.

"Why would I bargain with a demon?" asked Angel-Sam, tilting his head curiously, "I am powerful enough to simply snuff you out." With that, he advanced quickly.

Crowley, though weakened, was still almost as quick. He gave Kevin a shove and the two burst out of the circle and towards the bookshelves. There was a creak, and suddenly one shelf began to fall towards them. Crowley gave a thrust of demonic power and the shelf righted itself, then began to fall in the opposite direction. "He's going to try and crush us!" he roared as they ran towards the door.

Miraculously, they made it through. "The falling shelf must have disoriented him!" Kevin called happily. Crowley turned and, with a flick of his hand, forced the door back closed, locking it. Kevin glanced back, approvingly. "I think they put angel warding on the interior," Kevin commented as they ran, "but I doubt it'll hold for long."

They raced for the exit of the bunker, but upon reaching it, the door wouldn't budge. "Use some of your demon powers on it!" Kevin grunted, trying to use brute force to break through.

"Can't!" Crowley muttered. After his small displays of power, not counting the running, he was already feeling weakened. "Why don't you use your prophet powers?"

Kevin's shoulders slumped, and he leaned against the door weakly. "We're trapped."

"Then we've got to work together."

Kevin glanced up at Crowley. "You're crazy if you think-"

"I know what you think," Crowley cut him off, "And I don't like it either, but the enemy of my enemy is my friend."

"Sam's not an enemy," Kevin retorted.

"But that thing inside him is," Crowley replied smoothly, "If you want to save Sam, and yourself, then we're going to need you alive. What does it want, anyway?"

Kevin held out the tablet. "The translation."

Crowley smiled. "Then we're just going to have to translate it first. Now, where in this bunker makes a good out-of-the-way spot? I have a feeling we're going to have to play a nice game of hide and seek."


	10. Chapter 10

** Kevin: Present **

Kevin was dozing. Between the lack of sleep and the on and off rushes of adrenaline, it was any wonder he'd made it as long as he had. They were currently locked in the kitchen pantry, which, sadly was not well furnished. Not that it mattered. Kevin had devoured the remainder of a package of beef jerky before crashing. Now, he was vaguely aware of the sound of paper rustling near his face. "C'mon Kev," Crowley said, waving some pages in front of Kevin, "Get up."

"Huh?" Kevin started awake, wiping a trickle of drool off his chin. "What is it?"

Crowley grinned. "Oh, nothing...except for the crucial information we've been looking for."

Kevin was wide awake now. "What is it?"

"Took a bit of work," Crowley said, shifting the pages in his hands, "But I finally got it. First off, a spell that appears to force the angel out of it's host."

"Like a demonic exorcism?" Kevin asked, excited.

Crowley grimaced. "I'd prefer it if you _didn't_ compare my kind to them. At least some of _us_ have integrity, those gits are like the spoiled children who think they deserve everything."

Kevin rolled his eyes. "You killed my mom."

"Well, at least we're upfront when we murder."

Kevin took a deep breath, trying not to strangle Crowley on the spot. "What else did you find?"

"Ah. That's the bad news," Crowley muttered, "It looks like there's more than one way for an angel to achieve power close to godliness."

"You mean, like Cas?" Kevin wasn't quite sure what had happened, but he'd gotten the vague idea, and it hadn't been good.

"You think Castiel was bad, just imagine an angel with impure motives to begin with!" Crowley shuddered, remembering how badly his deal with Cas had gone. Again, another instance of angels lacking a sense of integrity.

"Right, so how do they do it? How do they get the power?"

"It looks like there's a way to tap into an angel's power source. You know how much damage a soul can pack? An angel has infinitely more. You'd only need to suck a few angels dry before you became unstoppable."

"What?" Kevin yelped, "Is there some way to stop them?"

"Oi! I'm translating as fast as I can here." Crowley replied defensively.

Kevin's head spun. Angels with godlike powers. That was a terrifying notion, especially considering most of the angels he'd been in contact with. "What do we need to do to perform the first spell?" Maybe there'd be a way out.

Crowley flipped a couple pages back. "It's extremely tricky. Looks like we'd need-"

He was cut off by a bright light and a high pitched whine as the door swung open. "It looks like you'd need more time," Sam said, lunging for Kevin.

Kevin tried to move, but it was cramped in the pantry and he only succeeded in hitting his head on a shelf. Sam caught Kevin by the arm, clenching it so hard Kevin was worried the bone might snap. He cried out in pain as Sam wrenched him up and out of the room. Crowley was up on his feet seconds after Kevin was out.

"Let him go," Crowley snarled.

Sam looked confused. "Why would you be giving _me_ orders?" he exhaled a soft laugh. "I am the one who will end you."

"It's not going to be that easy," Crowley drawled, "I'm going to make a guess that you're weak." He stepped out of the closet, hands behind his back. "Fall from heaven can't have felt too good," smirking, he stepped past a fuming Sam and began to wander the kitchen area.

"I am still more powerful than you," Sam asserted, twisting Kevin's arm behind his back as though trying to prove it.

"Maybe," Crowley mused, strolling past the countertops as though he didn't have a care in the world. His fingertips brushed along the cabinets. Sam drew in closer, watching intently. He cocked his head, like a lion who was curious about what its prey would try to do. Crowley turned to face Sam. "Maybe you are more powerful," he said again, "but you're out of practice."

With that, he lunged, using a kitchen knife to stab the arm Sam was using to grasp Kevin. Sam roared in surprise, releasing Kevin, who at least had the sense to run out of the way.

"No more games, demon," Sam cried, extending his arm and pushing Crowley with all his strength. Crowley was forced up and across the countertop, various plates. pots and foodstuff crashing down before he too fell off the other side. Crowley groaned in pain, wiping blood out of his mouth.

"That hurt," he growled, standing. Kevin was by his side in moments, ready to lend a supporting hand. Crowley pushed him away. "We split up," he muttered. Extending his hand under the table, he nudged Kevin.

Kevin felt Crowley's hand shove something into his own. Papers. He gripped them tight. Must be the translated pages.

"Go," Crowley said, "I'll hold him off."

Kevin glanced at Sam. "Don't kill him," he said, and then ran past Crowley out the kitchen door. First stop: the study. If he was going to do the spell, he was going to need outside help.


	11. Chapter 11

** Dean: Denver, Colorado **

After telling Cas how to hot-wire a car, Dean had set a rendezvous point: Denver. It would mean a bit of backtracking for Dean, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. Speed limits, after all, appeared more as guidelines than actual standards when it came to the Winchesters.

Parked outside the first gas station on the west side of Denver, Dean waited in the car, munching on a package of chips he'd picked up inside the store. His phone buzzed. Without checking the ID, he turned it on and pressed it to his ear. "Cas, where you at?"

The other line buzzed with static. "It's Kevin."

Dean's eyes widened with shock and he pushed open the door, exiting the car to stand. "Kev, what's going on back there?"

More buzzing. "Sam's possessed," Kevin said, "Crowley's holding him off-"

"Crowley's out?" Dean yelped.

"He was all I had. We're locked in the bunker. He's been helping me translate the tablet and I think we've found something."

"Are you OK? Is Sam..." Dean trailed off, feeling guilty for worrying about Sam when Sam was the one inflicting the damage.

"He's been possessed by an angel." Kevin heaved a sigh, "I'm sorry, Dean."

The guilt was overwhelming. "I...know." It hurt Dean to admit it out loud. "Is anyone hurt?"

Kevin, though probably shocked, had the grace to ignore Dean's first statement. "We're fine, I think. Well, Crowley may not be. He stabbed Sam in the arm, nothing serious, but I think the angel might be extra pissed." Dean grimaced. Any injury inflicted, on any of them, was Dean's fault. He'd let the angel in to begin with and now...everyone was getting hurt.

"Look, Dean, I don't have much time," Kevin said hurriedly. His breath was heaving in and out, like he'd just been running. "Crowley translated a spell to exorcise an angel,"

"What?" Dean interrupted, amazed.

"The spell, we're going to need ingredients," Kevin continued, "Do you have a pen?"

"Yeah, hold on," Dean said, tucking back into the Impala and scrabbling around inside the glovebox. He pulled out a pen and his father's journal. Dean wasn't much of a chronicler. That was, Dean realized with a pang, something Sam was good at, but a spell like this warranted being written down. "Alright, go."

Dean scribbled down the necessary ingredients for the spell as Kevin rattled them off. More than once, Kevin paused for so long Dean feared he'd been cut off, then resume at a faster, but quieter pace. "That's the lot of them," Kevin said, after a while, "I've got to go now. I'm afraid he might-"

"Kev, wait!" Dean interrupted. Kevin stopped. "I'll be there. I promise. Just...stay safe, man."

"I'll try," Kevin said hesitantly, "Please hurry." There was a click as Kevin disconnected. The silence made Dean feel even less at ease. To counteract the rising anxiety, Dean absentmindedly dialed Castiel's number.

"Hello, Dean." As Castiel's voice came out of the speaker, Dean jammed the phone to his ear, clutching it like a lifeline.

"Where are you, man?" Dean said, worried.

"Um, I think I'm-"

"Never mind that," Dean cut him off, "Have you ever heard of a spell that could exorcise an angel?"

"Rumors, but couldn't we talk about it-"

"This is important," Dean said anxiously, "Do you think it would harm Sam's body?"

"I doubt it," Cas replied, "But, Dean,"

"What?"

"Why do we have to talk on the phone?"

Dean turned around to see Cas, standing behind him, head cocked curiously as he talked both into the phone and to Dean in person. "Cas!" Dean cried, "I thought you'd stopped doing that!"

Cas smiled, tentatively. "Guess the habit has become ingrained." He stood, awkwardly fidgeting with the name tag on his vest, trying to decide whether or not to make eye contact. Dean, after all, had sent him away. He didn't want Cas around. This was Castiel's one chance to try and make it up, to prove he could still protect the Winchesters, and he didn't even have his grace to help.

Dean, on the other hand, was starting to become overwhelmed with his fears. Kevin and Sam were already in danger. And now here was Cas, in the flesh, ready to plunge straight into battle without his angel powers to defend himself. Yet another person Dean couldn't protect. He thought back to the day out on the lake, staring into the waters practically praying Cas would walk right back out. Dean hadn't even been able to say goodbye.

Not again.

Walking up to Cas, Dean wrapped his arms around him, pressing him close to his body. It was the kind of hug he gave Sam. The kind of hug that meant someone was family. "I'm glad you came." It was his way of trying to say everything he couldn't quite get out.

"Do you have a plan?" Cas asked, though not before lingering in the hug for several moments. Dean did want him back.

"Uh, yeah," Dean released Cas, blushing. "Kevin found an angelic exorcism. We just gotta pick up a few things on the way."

"Let's be quick about it, then," Cas said, walking over to the other side of the Impala and hopping into shotgun.

Dean followed quickly. Sliding in smoothly, he turned the key, revving up the engine as they shot out of the parking lot and back towards the highway. Once they were on the road, Dean caught a glimpse of Cas, grinning. "What is it?"

"I figure this'll be first and last time I ride shotgun," Cas replied.


	12. Chapter 12

** Ezekiel: Present **

Truth be told, the power displays were just as rough on Ezekiel as they were for Crowley. The more he exerted himself, the more Ezekiel felt his grip on Sam loosen. Sam was disconcerted, he was more thrashing helplessly within his mind more than anything else, but it wouldn't be too long before he asserted control.

_Who are you? _Sam roared.

Ezekiel gritted his teeth, trying to focus on the physical problem at hand: Crowley. "You are not going to survive this," Ezekiel said confidently, waving a hand over his bleeding arm. Within seconds there was no sign of a struggle, the skin knitted together seamlessly.

"Oh, I think I will," Crowley said, "You've never had to take on the Winchesters before."

"The Winchesters are gone. Dean will be unable to enter the bunker and Sam," he smirked, "Sam's gone."

_Listen to me,_ Sam shouted, _If you hurt any of them, you're going to me to answer to._

Ezekiel flinched, trying to get Sam's voice out of his head.

Crowley chuckled. "Looks like someone's not a very good bluffer." He walked closer, rummaging around the pieces of smashed dishware and food to retrieve the knife he'd been using. Crowley toyed lazily with it, moving the weapon from one hand to another as he walked closer. "Luckily, I know how to make a deal."

Ezekiel backed up slightly. "I do not follow."

"You leave out one door, I'll leave out the other. I'll make sure the prophet doesn't bother you for...I dunno, an hour or so, and in return you'll pretend we don't exist."

Ezekiel cocked his head, "Why would I do that? I can kill both of you easily."

Crowley grinned. "See, I don't think you can. I don't think Moose will let you."

_Do you know who I am?_ Sam shouted

"I'm in control."

_I've beaten the devil. You think I can't best you?_

"Then try to release your fist," Crowley pointed.

Ezekiel looked down at his hands, both gripped into tight, sweaty balls. Tentatively he tried to unclench them...but nothing happened.

_Got you._

"Ah," Crowley snapped his fingers, "Gotcha." He walked closer, extending a hand. "So what do you say? Shake on it? That is, if you can..."

With a surge of power, Ezekiel regained control. His fingers shook as he unclenched them. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was powerful. He was one of Heaven's greatest. Yet now...

Fixing Crowley with a glare, he extended a hand. They shook.

"Been a pleasure," Crowley said, grinning at the scowling Ezekiel. With that, he spun on his heels and left, at an irritatingly leisurely pace, out the opposite kitchen door.

"One hour, and you're dead." Ezekiel muttered, bitterly.

_Not if I stop you, first_, Sam's voice echoed in his mind.


	13. Chapter 13

** Kevin: Present **

Kevin had holed up in Dean's room. It was much more spacious than a closet, there were weapons stashed on the walls and the bed was luxuriously comfortable. A bit too comfortable. Kevin, laying on the bed clutching the tablet, had told himself he'd just stay there a few minutes...

There was a bang on the door and Kevin snapped awake. The door banged again. Still drowsy, Kevin dropped the tablet on the bed, hastily covering it with the sheets, then reached for a weapon on the wall. Selecting a 22, he cocked it, then pointed at the door.

"Kevin, let me in!" shouted a voice from outside.

He lowered the gun slightly. "Crowley?" Kevin called.

"You think the angel would have knocked?" Crowley said angrily. "Speaking of...he could end up here any minute!"

"Right," Kevin said, lowering the gun completely. He jogged to unlock the door, swinging it open to reveal a bruised, disheveled Crowley. He was wielding a kitchen knife, eyes darting up and down the hallway nervously. Crowley pushed past Kevin into the bedroom.

"Good, weapons," Crowley muttered.

"How did you escape?" Kevin asked curiously as he closed and re-locked the door. He walked towards Crowley, setting the gun on the bed as he sat down.

Crowley did not sit. "I made a deal," he snapped, "About half an hour ago. Which means our precious time is limited."

"You made a deal? For what? Me?" Kevin exclaimed, snatching up the gun.

"Don't be daft!" Crowley waved his hand dismissively, "He didn't have that much leverage."

"So..."

"Look, I think Moose is starting to take control. Angel-boy's not as strong as he pretends. So I made a truce, we've got an hour before he starts to attack. Which means-"

"You want me to do the spell," Kevin finished.

"Or we find an angel blade. Either works."

"Look," Kevin said, "I called Dean. He's not far; I think he could help."

Crowley rubbed the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "I don't think we've got time for that."

"You said Sam's getting stronger?" Kevin insisted, "The Winchesters, they lift each other up. Besides, Dean can fight at full power. I don't know how to fight, you're pretty messed up."

"What?" Crowley exclaimed, brandishing the kitchen knife, "I'm fine!"

"You had to make a deal," Kevin replied, standing as well as he crossed his arms defiantly.

"I make deals all the time."

"You say you've got power? Prove it."

"Wh-what?" Crowley spluttered.

"We're going to need to get that door open if Dean's going to be able to get in. Which means I'm going to need backup."

"How do you know how to open the door? I tried, and I'm a demon!"

Kevin brandished his phone triumphantly. "Smart phone. Books aren't the only place you find information."

Crowley raised his eyebrows, impressed. "It needs ingredients, I assume?"

"Yes. But I've already managed to acquire most of them," Kevin said, opening the closet to reveal an assortment of herbs and liquids piled carefully onto one of Dean's shirt.

"You do realize this is a suicide mission, right?"

"What choice do we have?" Kevin asked.

"You Winchesters," Crowley muttered, carefully selecting a machete from the wall as Kevin collected the ingredients, "Always so optimistic you can save each other."

Kevin couldn't help but smile at Crowley's insinuation: Kevin was a Winchester, too.


End file.
